Silliness to lighten the gloom

Just in time to lift my mood…

Light/Sav: added a hopper powered chicken farm to the house
Spiderlilly: I gotta see that
Light/Sav: ok
Light/Sav: had help from azure
Spiderlilly: what does it do? compartmentalize the chickens in chests?
Light/Sav: come see

And because it won’t be complete without pics:-



Just. Silly.

(edit) Added myself. You know. For immorrtality. And all that stuff.






Scared. Overwhelmed. I know I’m not well. I wonder if I can handle all this, and I shouldn’t just put it aside and take it easy.

On the other hand, I just realised something. 20k words. That’s 1/2 a novel, according to places like SWFA. So. I have two 1/2 done and a third that’s technically novel length, at about 40k words.

Still have to FINISH it, however.

There’s that word. Finish.

Wonder if it’s just me…

At the moment, I’m attached to the magazine I bought with Olivia Wilde on the cover. It has pages of writing inserted that I carry around.

As well as this pen.

I’d like to find out if it’s just me that tends to develop an attachment to a particular pen for a period of time, as I write. I MUST write with that one pen. I’ll seek it out before all others (I don’t like typing up; I prefer to write longhand, I type up the end result afterwards though).

Hm hm hm. Little curiosities.

Just… snark. (Or is it? Not sure.)

I’m tired of these stores that flaunt these plain tops, plain cotton shirts, plain jeans, plain bodysuits with ooh! stripes that go this-a-way! or hey! the whole bodysuit’s only one colour! or have plain-ass sweatsuits with only the brand name slapped on going for it. Or looking like that sports stuff from high school you never really threw away. And either touting these as ‘classic’ or the next best thing since sliced bread.

Oh, pleeeease.

Get OFF my printed page, already.

And in order to make it look SPECIAL, you have to have multiple shots of the barely-past pubescent-looking model posing with the plain-looking clothes.

Just. UGH.

To me it looks like a lazy photo shoot attempt.

Who buys this? As in, falls for it?

I don’t.

…Do you?

Nerves ahoy… next stop, fear on a broken record…

Sent a literary poem, plus the Architect of Bonfires one I mentioned in a previous post, off to markets.

The nerves have set in. I’m scared.

The thought, bouncing about in my head:- What Have I Done..?!

Well, it’s too late.

Repeat: the worst that can happen is life goes on, (albeit with two rejection slips!)…

Ok that’s not working… I don’t want rejection slips!


Dennettgirl’s art on my shop

Turns out, instead of having to figure out how to do the art myself, get an artist who doesn’t mind.

And it’s the same artist who made my skin.

Here’s the process. I’m being so squee!

So. Here she is. Just starting.


So she starts working away…



Then she realises she started it wrong somewhere. Forgot a block (think of it as missing a “pixel”). She does pixel art. Remember way back when in the 90’s you’d do painstaking work on a microscopic level, pixel by pixel, to get things just right? She does that in her sleep.


Destroy, Destroy. Start all over again. Argh?

Destroy, Destroy. Start all over again. Argh?

Oy. Well she wasn’t grimacing about it, but I woulda.

So, onwards:-

She was actually destroying a bit here, again...

She was actually destroying a bit here, again…

Dum dee dum...

Dum dee dum…

At this point she ran outta brown wool. That’s when I realised I didn’t have permission on 1/2 the chests Mal put as hopper containers for our storage (more on that later). So we went snipping the brown wool-dyed sheep I had down in the basement. (Yeah, you can dye the sheep in Minecraft. It’s hilarious. And awesome.)

And, I dunno why I thought it’ll look like a page and not a bound book cover. I thought the brown shouldn’t be there, but I trusted  Denn; then my brain kicked in. OH RIGHT!

It's coming along nicely...

It’s coming along nicely…

She caught me checking the place out and it looked like a good screenshot moment. So.

There she is.

Caught her standing still.

Caught her standing still.

… aaand we’re done! She posed far away, good thing We caught her close up beforehand, didn’t we? Squint; there she is!

... squint and see Dennett on top of her finished book on my shop...

… squint and see Dennett on top of her finished book on my shop…

... now squint and see her  in front of the glass portion. :D

… now squint and see her in front of the glass portion. 😀

I like to give credit where credit is due; plus I love her to bits.

(Here’s the enchanted book for comparison just to show how bang-on she got it.)

Thanks, Dennettgirl!

(And. Squeeeeeeeee…!)

When my worlds collide…

I started in Nick Mamatas’ twitter today, saw something unfortunate (to add to the “Bitch from Worldcon” post I saw earlier in the week, James May’s take on white privilege) NO. *NOT* linking. Ew.

But. Silver lining time. Saw Scalzi’s post because it was linked.

I’ll let others articulate the obvious, and use a mallet to that effect, and I’m not fangirl squeeing here.

A year late (and a dollar short?) to Scalzi’s post. But.

When my worlds collide. Say what? He’s designing a game? (here.)

And. Oh. That mallet he’s wielding in his twitter profile makes SOOOO much sense now.

Ok, I lie. I’ll say something. A little thingy. Again, obvious. But, yanno.

Speaking from someone with likely the second highest difficulty setting: It’s Scalzi’s fucking sandbox. *HIS* corner of the ‘net. He PAYS for it. He wants to keep it clean. If it’s dirty, go articulate as such in a manner that’s knife-proof. He wordsmiths for a living. Don’t dither, or be foolhardy, with yours.

Hence. Mallet.


I lie?

Some more food for thought, if the 800+ comments on Scalzi’s post didn’t make u think and entertain you (the mallet thwapping):-

Off to hunt food.

(At least I’m not a SOCIAL gamer, according to those stats… Angry Birds? Wassat?)

Gaming Silliness

(Team Fortress 2)


(me) “Norgul’s here?”
(me) “And on BLU?”
(me) “We’re fucked…”
(30 seconds or so later, after getting stabbed)
(me) “Yeah, he just stabbed a pyro, so…”


(I’m Horsemeat. Don’t… ask…)

… iit’s HORSEMEAT! : nuke needs a nerf. take away his minigun. or internet connection.
Bitch_Cakes : i vote the first
… iit’s HORSEMEAT! : lol
Bitch_Cakes : xD
NUKEBAHB : they tried taking my internet
NUKEBAHB : i just found other ways
… iit’s HORSEMEAT! : what happened
… iit’s HORSEMEAT! : lol
Bitch_Cakes : he lives at the cyber cafe
Engoriel : HACKER
an egg about to hatch : he’s playing though his toaster right now
JUST LIKE A MINI-MALL (2,550) got 7 points [-4] for killing … iit ‘ s HORSEMEAT! (11,149)
Bitch_Cakes : he sells porn to cover the coffee expenses

(EDIT: just so you know. Bitch _Cakes is female. And. Obviously. Tongue-in-cheek.)

… and time for some snark.

I’m still on my self- imposed exile from writing full-on, but.


So. And I say this, having seen Denise’s couch and rug, and Nancy from novel #2, in photos from various magazines…

On the makeup being touted, the hue: this side of sand. “A backstage favourite, this one-stick wonder from Italy highlights the face…”

(…cue someone with skin like dark mahogany slabbing on a sand-coloured stick across the cheek…)

“…gives legs incredible shine…”

(…cue the pale stick being streaked across same dark mahogany legs…)

“I down a glass of potassium-and electrolyte-rich coconut water before I step on the plane,” this other bit says here. Yeah, we all frequent-flyer. “It’s essential for fighting zero-humidity cabin air and staying hydrated in flight.” Uh-huh.

“A little goes a long way with this complexion-enhancing concealer.”

(Cue an applier, even paler than the ‘one-stick wonder’, being applied on…)

…it’s a novel…!

So, it started out, as most acts of procreation do, as a twinkle in the eye.

Then, you start feeling the idea kick, and you start writing for two.
Someone took me (well the story) to a doctor… (literally; a prof with a PhD in English prose and poetry)
And… it’s a novel!
Same reaction; some elation. But mostly now… overwhelmed.
I was hoping that the ending I’d provided so far would not make it one, I’ll  try and get some feedback. In the meantime.
Third time around. So it’s not a one-trick pony, nor a lucky two- time fluke.
Fine. I give up. I write novels.
I’m gonna give myself a writing break. Get it completely out my system.
In the meantime, a writer I met in 2003 at Torcon… my ufinished novel count:- 3.
Lookit hers. O_o
I may have to invest in Scrivener sometime soon. Unfinished #2 has a lot of images, etc. that that will incorporate.